


skin against skin is incredible

by beautifullights



Series: everyone has scars [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Competent Finn, Enthusiastic Consent, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Flustered Poe Dameron, Hand Jobs, Humor, I started to write smut, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mild Smut, Porn with Feelings, Smut, all the feelings, and a little bit of my soul too, and then feelings came out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullights/pseuds/beautifullights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe’s got that dazed look in his eyes again. Finn’s pretty confident that look is a good one, because Poe bites his lip again, and that lip bite—that’s <em> definitely</em> a good thing.</p><p>Finn's whole body is throbbing with adrenaline, pulling Poe closer, closer, needing to feel all of the places where their bodies connect. He really wouldn’t mind staying here forever, pressed close against Poe, one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other on the small of Poe’s back, Poe’s hands cupping his face to keep it close. Kissing. Huh. A revelation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a wondering, hungry glint

Finn really wouldn’t mind staying here forever, pressed close against Poe, one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other on the small of Poe’s back, both of Poe’s hands cupping his face to keep it close. His whole body is throbbing with adrenaline, pulling Poe closer, closer, needing to feel all of the places where their bodies connect. Is he doing this right? Force, he hopes so. He’s not sure he’ll ever get another chance, if not.

Poe’s hands move to his waist and grip him tightly, careful to avoid touching his back. He sucks on Finn’s bottom lip, presses his tongue gently against the seam between their mouths. Finn’s lips part. Poe’s tongue slips inside them. Finn’s breath shudders at the sensation as Poe licks inside his mouth.

Kissing. Huh. A revelation. It’s just two pairs of lips, and two mouths, and two tongues, but wow, he’ll never look at Poe’s face the same way again. It was bad enough looking at it before, desperately wanting to kiss him but not even knowing where to begin, how to say it. Now— together— _wow_.

At last Poe breaks away, eyes closed, panting, trying to refill his lungs.

“That bad, huh?” Finn jokes, but Poe can hear the nervous tension in his voice. He shakes his head, trying to get his voice to function again, but _kriff, those lips_ and _wow, his mouth_ and _Force, that tongue—_

“Poe? Poe, you ok? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— did I do it badly? Because I have no idea what I’m doing here. I’m so sorry if I fucked it up. I really didn’t mean— I’m sorry.”

Poe’s eyes fly open at his fearful tone. Finn’s hands are fluttering towards Poe, unsure whether touching will hurt or help. Poe reaches out and grabs one of his hands, brings it to his lips, presses a heartfelt kiss in lieu of words. He clears his throat, tries again to make his voice work, but “Finn,” is all he can manage. “Oh, _kriff_ , Finn—”

“Ok, so is that a good kriff or a bad kriff? Because I really don’t know, and it’s ok, you can tell me, you know, if it wasn’t good, or if you don’t want—” Finn chokes off mid-sentence at the sudden fierce tightening of Poe’s hand over his. Poe pulls him closer, leans his forehead against Finn’s, releases a deep sigh of pleasure at the warmth between their bodies.

“Finn.” Poe leans back slightly to see his friend’s face, strokes a hand over Finn’s tight curls. He closes his eyes, opens them again. “I was always flying, growing up, ok? Speeders and skiffs and whatnot, whatever I could get my hands on, just overland at first, and then higher, faster, trickier. But my mother wouldn’t let me take a ship offplanet until I was fifteen. The first time I did—” Poe shakes his head, lost in the memory. “It was amazing, Finn, the rush and the speed and the heat, breaking through the atmosphere, launching into space, the darkness and the vastness and the _stars_ —” Poe breaks off, touches Finn’s face, slides a gentle thumb over his lips. “It was the best moment of my life.” He bites his lip. “Until now.”

Finn blinks, face momentarily blank in the expression Poe has come to recognize as _what? oh. Oh. OHHHH._ “Oh” is, in fact, what Finn says now. “Oh.” A trembling smile starts and then splits his face open into an incredulous grin. “Wait, really? Poe—” He reaches out and grabs Poe’s hands. “That’s, uh– good. That’s really good. Yeah. Can I—does that mean—can I, uh, kiss you again, maybe?”

Poe’s eyes spark with a wondering, hungry glint. He nods, dizzy with a sudden surge of blood to his groin. Finn laughs at the hazy lust in Poe’s eyes, grabs his friend’s collar, and pulls him closer.

 

 

A few days later, it is Finn’s tongue pressing Poe’s lips open, licking deep into him until Poe groans softly and clutches at Finn’s sides, mindful of the still-healing scar on his back but not much else. “Can I—” Poe pulls away a fraction, tugs at the bottom of Finn’s shirt. “Can I—”

“Yeah,” Finn’s voice is hoarse. Poe slips the shirt up and off Finn’s shoulders, slides out of his own a moment later with a forceful yank from Finn.

Skin against skin is _incredible_ , Finn thinks, the sheer presence and _heat_ of it, full chest to chest, not just a hand or a forehead, no clothes or armor or gloves in between. He tackles Poe down onto the bed, feels a quick tightening in his pants at Poe’s sudden gasp underneath him. Poe is hard too, Finn can feel him against his thigh, and for a moment his vision swoops.

“You there, buddy?” Poe pants, breaking off to catch a breath. Finn looks down at him— this is _Poe_ , _Poe who named him,_ looking up with dark eyes full of warmth and _desire_ , that’s definitely in there somewhere, lust and care and friendship and something more and oh, Finn is a goner. Poe reaches up a gentle hand to his face, strokes down his cheekbone, and Finn is grabbing his wrist and kissing it, pressing a line of kisses all the way up to his shoulder and onto his chest. Is this a thing people do? He hopes so, because it feel right to him, this need to take Poe’s skin under his mouth and hands and _oh,_ the way Poe’s breath shudders under him. He licks hesitantly at Poe’s nipple, laughs under his breath at the way the pilot’s breath huffs out in an intense rush that Finn is starting to label _yes please yes._

“Are you _laughing_?” Poe gasps. “You’re laughing at me. I don’t believe it. I’ll get you for that.” Poe slides down to take Finn’s nipple into his mouth. Finn cries out in shock at the sensation and Poe stops short, picks his head up. “Sorry, buddy! Sorry. Are you—”

“ _Ok_ , yes, I’m ok, do that again, Poe, _please,_ ” Finn groans. Poe’s laughing again, breath huffing out in quick warm puffs above Finn’s chest. He complies, sucking on first one nipple, then the other. Finn groans, vibrating with sensation.  Before Finn can catch his breath, Poe is leaning in towards his neck with tight warm lips and _sucking_.

Some time later Finn comes back to conscious thought, gasping for air, finding his hands clenching Poe’s sides hard enough to leave a mark. Which is exactly what Poe has left on him, he thinks, or at least that’s the way it feels. Oh, kriff _,_ that _mouth,_ Finn thinks.

Finn’s hands wrap around the back of Poe’s neck and pull him into a deep, fierce kiss. Breathless with need, Poe gives him as good as he gets. Oh, kriff _,_ that _mouth,_ Poe thinks _._

 

  

Poe’s hips press closer as he wraps a leg over Finn’s. “Would you be ok on your back?” he whispers, pressing quick kisses along Finn’s jawline and down his neck again.

“Yeah,” Finn replies breathlessly, trying not to grind his hips into Poe’s. “Yeah, I think so.” It’s been a few more weeks of physical therapy, after all, and while he’s not up to normal strength yet, he’s no longer in pain.

“Good.” Poe’s mouth curves into a smile as he flips them over, slides down to take Finn’s nipple in his mouth, sucks, sucks _hard_. Finn twists beneath Poe, begging _please, Poe, please_ and Poe’s thoughts short out somewhere between the first and second _please_ as Finn’s erection grinds roughly against his. If they keep this up much longer he will come in his pants like a teenager and he can’t even remember why that’s a bad thing, why they shouldn’t just strip and _fuck_ like Poe needs to, desperately needs to _now_ —  

With a superhuman burst of altruism, he lifts his mouth from Finn’s nipple, pushes off his chest, and rolls over onto— nope, apparently the bed ends right there. Poe falls with a thud onto the bunk’s hard floor. Finn rolls up immediately onto his elbow, panting, and looks down at Poe. Poe closed his eyes against the lingering heat in Finn’s eyes, focuses instead on the coldness of the floor against his back, takes deep calming breaths so he can _chill the fuck down, Poe, the guy’s never even done anything more than make out before, take it easy._

“Poe?” Finn’s asking again, cautious. He sits up, slides his legs off the bed, leans forward, tentatively reaches out. “I’m sorry, I—” and for the second time that night Poe feels like a total asshole.

“No, Finn, not your fault, _I’m_ sorry. I just— I think I got a little carried away there.” Poe’s voice trails off in a daze.

“What do you mean?” Finn asks, hesitant.

Poe laughs self-deprecatingly, waves a hand at his crotch. “I just—I keep forgetting I need to take it slow for you, Finn. I don’t want to push you into anything. My body has other ideas, but _it can keep its thoughts to itself_ ,” he hisses towards his belt. Finn laughs, startled. “It’s not anything you did, Finn, honestly,” Poe says, sitting up and facing his friend. Poe needs to make him understand, needs to wipe the worried line off his brows. “Seriously. I will never do anything you don’t want me to do. I—”

“Then why did you leave?” Finn asks. The frank desire in his eyes takes Poe’s breath away again.

Poe closes his eyes so he can think clearly, or at least as clearly as possible under the circumstances. “I want to make this good for you, Finn. I don’t want to rush you, or do anything you’re not comfortable with. I— well, I really didn’t mean to make quite so dramatic an exit, I thought I was just going to be lying next to you on the bed, but I felt like if I stayed there on top of you any longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

“Poe. Did I ask you to hold back?” Finn asks, voice low in his throat. Poe takes his head in his hands, scrubs his fingers forcefully through his hair, tries to pull a coherent thought—kriff, _any_ thought—back into his head. No such luck. He gives up, looks back up at Finn. On the way to meeting his friend’s eyes, however, his eyes snag briefly on the bulge at Finn’s crotch before he can drag them fully upwards.

Finn notices. A small smirk gathers at the corners of his mouth. He brushes his hand back across his crotch with deliberate casualness, watches Poe bite down hard on his lip with dazed eyes.

“Poe.” Finn’s voice is hoarse with need. “Will you touch me?”

Desire burns hot and wild in Poe’s gut, spreading out to his limbs with fiery hands and filling his brain with hot smoke. Poe swallows roughly, tries to clear his head, completely fails. “Finn—but—are you—are you sure—do you—”

“Yes. Please. _Poe.”_ Finn’s voice is thick with need.

Poe’s a goner, he’s not going to make it, he’s going to die of insane desire, but this is _Finn_ , and he’s never even—Poe needs him to understand, needs him to know that he’s _free,_ not obedient, needs to be sure that this is his own choice—“You don’t have to, ok, buddy? Just because I can’t keep a hold on myself, doesn’t mean you have to do _anything_ , really, I didn’t mean—”

“I didn’t say it because I felt like I had to, Poe. I said it because I wanted to.”

“It’s just that, we can stop at any time, ok, buddy? Whenever you’re not comfortable, just say the word, pull away, whack me, anything, and we can stop right there, no problem—”

“Poe,” Finn laughs at him. “ _Ok,_ I hear you, ok, just _please_. Now. Come back here. _I want you to touch me_ ,” and Poe is stumbling to his feet, letting Finn grab his hands and pull him towards him, down onto the bed, down to his doom. Death by aching balls.

There are worse ways to go, Poe thinks.

He grabs Finn’s mouth to his and kisses him fervently, licks deep into his mouth, hot and wild and sweet, slides his hands down the broad muscles of Finn’s chest to his belt, pauses again. “Are you sure you—”

 _“Yes,_ Poe. Please, Force _, yes.”_

Poe undoes Finn’s belt with shaking hands, unzips his pants, slides them down to his ankles. Finn kicks them off, shuddering as Poe draws a gentle hand across his boxers. Poe looks up to check Finn’s reaction. Finn holds his gaze, swallows, drowns in a pair of dark eyes shot through with desire. His hips jut up against Poe’s hand, burning to be touched. “Poe,” he gasps. Poe’s hands burn down Finn’s body from the flat muscles of his stomach, around the curve of his ass, along the outside of his thighs, snake in towards the inside of his thighs. Poe glances up again, sees Finn’s softly parted mouth, grins to himself, and plants a soft kiss just above Finn’s pelvis. Slowly he eases Finn’s boxers over his erection, off his legs, and tosses them aside.

Finn’s hands are suddenly twitching with an unexpected urge to cover himself. Poe looks up, sees a hint of uncertainty creeping into Finn’s eyes, curses himself—too much, too fast, did he misread Finn? “Is this not ok? We can—”

“No, no, I’m ok! I was just wondering, is it ok—for you? I don’t know—no one’s ever—ever _looked_ , before. Am I—”

Poe collapses beside him, delirious with laughter, gasping, fighting for control. “Finn. Oh, Finn. You’re beautiful,” and he looks into Finn’s eyes, cups his face in his hands, tries to make up for a lifetime of white armor. “You’re beautiful,” he repeats, and Finn can hear the fervent honesty in his voice. Poe presses kisses to Finn’s cheeks, forehead, jawline, lips, pulls him close, nuzzles into his neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers again. “Oh, _kriff_ , Finn, you’re going to kill me.”

“Oh.” Finn’s breath puffs out with relief as his face lights up again. “Oh, good. I didn’t—I just wondered—” Finn’s hands slide up along the muscles of Poe’s back. “Can I—” He presses his lips together to fight off a mischievous smile and suddenly rolls his hips up into Poe’s in the way that made Poe gasp before—yep, it worked again. “CanIseeyou?” Finn asks quickly, before he can lose the nerve. He desperately wants to close his eyes with embarrassment but he also needs to see Poe’s reaction, needs to see if this is ok, this surging desire that is rattling around in his head and crowding out all other rational thoughts.

Poe lifts his head to look at Finn and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, Finn, you can. Yeah. Of course.” He’s got that faint drowning look in his eyes again. Finn’s pretty confident that look is a good one, because Poe bites his lip again after he says it, and that lip bite—that’s _definitely_ a good thing.

Poe shifts his weight to his knees and rises up over Finn’s hips to give him access to his belt.

Finn’s not really surprised to find his hands too clumsy to open the buckle. His fingers catch on Poe’s erection. Poe’s breath hisses out in shock.

To save his pounding heart, Poe slides off the bed to his feet, undoes his own buckle, slides his pants down, kicks them aside. He fingers the waistband of his boxers, hesitates, sees Finn waiting with dark round eyes. This is when Poe smirks, does a slow strip-tease, preens in front of worshipful eyes. But the smirk keeps slipping off his face as he slides his boxers off, straightens up, squares his shoulders before Finn’s hungry gaze.

He’s never felt so naked in his life, not before any of the other pilots and fighters and assorted oddballs he’s fucked with before, during, and after his various missions. It’s never meant anything but pleasure before, the sheer physical joy of losing his mind in someone else’s body. But now—now it’s _Finn_ who’s stretched out on the bed before him, _Finn’s_ eyes fixed with need on Poe’s body, running up and down and up again, catching on scars and burn marks and long wiry muscles. Poe tries to smile, uncertain. “So?”

Finn looks up at him through long dark lashes. “Nope.”

“Wha—” He’s too winded to speak.

“Beautiful is not the right word.” Finn reaches a hand out towards Poe, grabs his waist, drags him back towards the bed. “Gorgeous,” Finn mumbles into Poe’s hair as the pilot tumbles onto the bed beside him. Finn nibbles at his ear, murmurs, “Fucking gorgeous, Poe, and you know it damn well, so don’t even give me that insecure mynock shit, they ought to make statues of you, posters all over the galaxy—”

Poe cuts him off with a fervent kiss, wraps the back of Finn’s head in his heads, pulls him closer. “Don’t tease! It’s not nice—”

Finn’s laughing too hard to properly return the kiss. “Oh but your face, _kriff_ , the look on your _face—_ ” He rolls over onto his back, lost in hysterical laughter. Resisting such complete, unfettered joy is impossible. It’s not long before Poe finds himself surrendering to the gleeful victory in Finn’s voice.

Finally they subside and gasp for breath. “Force, Finn, I love you,” Poe mutters, nuzzling into the crook of Finn’s neck, then freezes. _Fuck, Poe, you weren’t going to dump it on him so soon, not yet, not_ now _, for kriff’s sake, rolling around naked in bed together like a pair of loons—_

Finn lifts Poe’s head from where he’s sunk it into his hands and stares at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. “Oh.”

Poe’s mouth opens, closes, opens again, tries to find some words, any words—but none come to him. He’s not going to take it back. Even though _fuck, Poe, you idiot, kriff, no, you’ve ruined it, everything_ —he meant it. He won’t take it back.

Something’s glittering in Finn’s eyes, something bright and wet and vulnerable. His hands are shaking against Poe’s face. “Oh, no,” Poe whispers, “Finn, _fuck_ , I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you don’t have to—I didn’t— I didn’t mean to drop that on you like that, I—I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything, I understand, I—” He closes his eyes. He needs to make it ok again for Finn, needs to say something to fix that surge of emotion in Finn’s eyes, but he still has no words. His throat is burning with bitter pain, an awful loneliness worse than deep space without coordinates.

Poe meant it. He really did. He’s said it before—to his parents as a child, to his squadron in jest, to _Black One_ in the silence of hyperspace, but he’s never said it to a partner before, never _meant_ it like he does now, and—

“Poe. Poe.” Finn’s fingers are brushing against his cheek, soft as his voice. His lips kiss away tears Poe hadn’t even felt. Finn’s tongue is numb with terror because _kriff_ , he’s felt this for so long now but he’s never known how to say it, if it’s a thing that is said, whether Poe’s eyes will shutter with the need to let him down easy, and—and he has to be honest now, because if he can’t be honest in his own head then there’s no way he can be honest outside it—he hasn’t said it because he’s just fucking terrified, even hearing Poe say it first, he’s still too fucking terrified to take that kind of leap, into a feeling even more unknown than life outside of the First Order. But that doesn’t matter now, not compared to Poe crying now, _crying_ in his arms because Finn’s too much of a kriffing coward to say it back. “Poe,” Finn’s hoarse with fear. “Poe,” he repeats, louder, gathering his courage. “I love you too.”

Poe’s shaking his head, eyes still shut tight. “No, Finn, it’s ok. Buddy. You don’t— you don’t have to say anything, just because I—”

“Poe,” Finn growls. “I mean it. I love you. I _mean_ it, ok? Poe. Look at me.” Poe slowly opens his eyes, lifts them to Finn’s, bloodshot and tight with pain. Finn’s hands slide to Poe’s jaw, grip him as though he might slip away into space. “I mean it, Poe. I love you. I’ve never—I’m not—I don’t have any other words, Poe, I don’t know what kind of speech I’m supposed to give here or what we’re supposed to do now, but I love you, Poe,” and it’s getting so much easier to say, “I _love you_ , and I need you to trust me on that, ok? I need you to believe me. I love you. I’m so sorry I didn’t respond right away. You took me by surprise and, kriff—” Finn breaks off, throat tight. “ _Kriff_ , I was—I still am–terrified of what that means, Poe. What I feel for you. It’s too much. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared shitless.”

Poe is trembling in his hands, bringing his hands up to grip Finn’s back like he’s not quite sure how to move his arms. “Oh, Finn. Finn.” He buries his face in Finn’s neck, sucks in air with deep shuddering breaths, tries to still his shaking hands. “Me too,” he whispers, so quiet Finn has to lean in towards him, forehead almost touching Poe’s. “Me too. More than anything in the world.”

Finn snorts softly. “No way. The fearless Poe Dameron? Scared of a feeling?”

Poe bites his lip. “What else is there to be scared of?” he asks at last. “Death? When there’s no one you care for, death–” His shoulders flinch away from the thought with a half-shrug. “Death doesn’t seem to matter as much.” Poe lifts a finger to trace the lines of Finn’s brow with a long, callused finger.

“Poe—” Finn whispers, not sure what to say. He covers Poe’s hand with one of his own as it continues down the line of his jaw. “You—I mean–you don’t feel that way, do you?”

Poe meets his eyes, dark and serious. “There was a time when I did. After my father died, when my mother was already gone. Before I met the general. I flew for the Republic then, any mission they wanted to give me. Reckless, stupid, crazy stunts. The General–” He snorts fondly. “The General made it quite clear, once I joined the Resistance, that ‘such behavior would not be tolerated.’ That she needed me to return safely. I think–I’m pretty sure–that’s the reason she promoted me, the first time. Not because I’d earned it–kriff, I was such an idiot then–but because she thought that if I had a squadron looking to me, counting on me, that I’d make sure to come home safe.”

“Seems like it worked,” Finn ventures cautiously.

Poe grins. “The General’s a genius.”

Finn wraps his hand around Poe’s, draws it to his lips, presses a kiss to it. “I’m glad you don’t feel that way any more,” he murmurs.

“Me too.” Poe looks at Finn’s face like he is drinking him in. It’s the most intimate gaze Finn’s ever felt. His skin ignites, from his face to his chest to his hands to his feet to his _groin._ “You love me,” Poe says, but there’s a question in it.

“Poe. Poe Dameron, you are too sexy to be this insecure. _Yes_ , I love you. You’re a ridiculous laserbrained flyboy, but I love you. Or maybe that’s why I love you.” Finn shakes his head, lips twitching into a gleeful smile. “Dameron. You’re impossible. I admire your dick and you start waxing poetic about love and life and death. You’re _completely_ _impossible_ , you know that?”

Poe’s face kindles bright with laughter, crinkling tight around his eyes in the way that always makes Finn’s head go a little fuzzy. “Right,” Poe gasps. “You’re right. I’m hopeless. I really didn’t mean to start this now. I was going to tell you I loved you later, sometime nice and romantic, when we were watching the stars or something..”

“Romantic. Yeah. I like the sound of that.” Finn nods, pressing his lips tight against a grin. “Yeah. That sounds nice. Why don’t you do that sometime? If it makes you happy, I can even pretend it’s the first time, or the first second time, that you’ve told me you love me.”

“I love you,” says Poe, grinning ridiculously.

“Or the first third time, whatever. I’m not picky.” Poe laughs again, head thrown back with relaxed abandon.

Finn loses his train of thought for a moment just from watching him, exposed throat and flashing teeth and broad chest. Poe focuses back in on him again, flushed and grinning, and Finn can hear his heart pounding in his ears. “Could we maybe–” Finn tries to gather his thoughts together into some form of coherency. “Maybe, uh,” Finn tries again, fails. Poe bites his lip, eyes glinting with mischief. Finn makes a face at him, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “Look. Maybe we can continue this talking thing later? I really was about to admire your body, and I didn’t get a chance to do it properly. Any chance we can get back to that sometime?” Finn smirks suddenly. “I felt that. I think maybe you’re interested in the idea too?” He casually shifts his hips where they press against Poe’s.

“ _Kriff_ , Finn, you already know I’m interested—” Poe says, breathless.

Finn rolls his hips closer again, gleeful.

“That does it,” Poe mutters. He flips Finn onto his back, looms over him, and threatens him with a pointed finger. “We’ll talk later.” Finn’s not sure how Poe manages to combine menacing and sexy in the same single action, but that’s also something to think about later, not now, while Poe is  pressing a line of kisses down his neck, throat, chest, abdomen, pelvis–oh, kriff. Finn’s body twitches involuntarily. Poe glances up underneath long lashes. “Ok?”

Finn nods, breathless, achingly hard. Poe smiles to himself. He resumes right where he left off, kissing his way over Finn’s hips and down the inside of Finn’s thighs. Poe’s breath comes short as he takes Finn’s cock in hand, giddy, feeling like he has been given a gift he didn’t even know he needed, a gift he can’t live without now. He looks up at Finn, feels his cock twitch again at the sight of Finn’s parted lips, panting for breath. “ _Kriff_ , Finn,” he whispers, frozen in place.

“Why did you stop?” Finn whispers back. “Please, Poe, _please–_ ” and he’s not even quite sure what he’s begging for, but his dick is hard and hot in Poe’s strong hand, and nothing has ever felt so good before. His hips jerk upwards with need.

Poe’s eyes widen, dark with desire. With a stuttering breath, he bends back to his task. He flicks a finger around the tip of Finn’s already leaking cock to spread the precum around, spirals down until Finn is gasping incoherently, strokes gently at first, a little bit harder, then smoothly, confidently, stroking, insistent, slick with precum. He cups an experimental hand under Finn’s balls, grins wickedly at Finn’s choked gasp, and returns his focus to Finn’s cock. He twists his wrist, runs a finger over the slit, slides his hand down and up and down again, again, again.

Poe’s hand strokes a tight rhythm, hands focused and sure, body unconsciously following each grasp and twist and slide, mouth parted slightly in concentration. Finn’s hips are jerking up uncontrollably, his pulse is pounding in his ears, he can feel a hot coil of tension already starting to gather in his gut, there’s no way he’s going to last. It’s just so different, another man’s hand on his cock, and even more, it’s _Poe’s_ hand, Poe who loves him, and there might even be two hands on him now but Finn’s honestly not quite sure, his vision is going white around the edges, all he can feel is Poe’s hands coaxing heat in his cock, electric darts shooting through his limbs, there is an overwhelming surge of _heat,_ his balls tighten suddenly, and he is coming, spurting, gasping, crying out _Poe oh fuck oh kriff oh god ohhh._

“Ohhhhh,” he groans again. He is paralyzed. He will not be able to move, ever again, and this should bring back terrifying echoes but it doesn’t, _oh, kriff_ , it doesn’t, because _oh, kriff_ , he feels too good to be dead, not even close, _oh, kriff_ —

“‘Oh, kriff,’ huh?” Poe asks, grinning absurdly at him as he drops a tissue into the wastecan. “Mmm-hmm. Ok. I can work with that. You never know what it’ll be, are they talkers, are they groaners, are they totally silent, with that strange frozen grimace thing going, coughers, sneezers, cryers, sweet-talkers, dirty-talkers, other-language-talkers, maybe they’ll make some weird alien noise, maybe they’ll just stare at you blankly, maybe they’ll snore. You just really never know. ‘Oh, kriff.’ I could get used to that. That’s really ok. Short, sweet, and to the point. Could be a lot worse.”

Finn grabs at him, pulls his lips to his without bothering to open his eyes (too much effort). “Shut. Up.” He kisses Poe thoroughly to enforce the point, breaks off to grab a breath. “ _You_ are going to be a talker, I can already tell. I’m going to lie there trying to breathe and you’re going to talk my face off, non-stop, parsec a minute, I can tell. Oh _, kriff,_ ” he says again, with fervor.

Poe is laughing uncontrollably. “Finn. Oh, Finn,” he gasps. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Good,” Finn can’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. “You probably deserve it.”

Eventually their laughter subsides and they lie there, nestled together, while Finn tries to regain his breath. When he finally does, he notices Poe’s cock still standing half at attention.

“Poe— uh—” Finn’s not quite sure what to do. This is where he returns the favor, he knows. And he wants to, he’s pretty sure he wants to, but he’s really not quite sure how all of this works. Poe touched him like he touches _Black One_ —graceful, practiced, sure of his motions. Finn’s going to fuck it up. At a fundamental level, that’s what he does. Eventually he gets it right, too— he knows that. But he doesn’t want to fuck this up. Not now, not ever.

“Hey.” Poe touches Finn’s chin with a finger, turns his face towards his. “What’s going on, buddy? I lost you there for a moment.”

Poe’s eyes are dark and deep and startlingly close to Finn’s own. He drowns in them for a heartbeat or five. “Buddy?” Poe asks again.

Finn blinks and comes to. The first words that come to his mind are, “I don’t know how.”

Poe blinks back at him. “How to what?”

 _Oh, shit. That was not supposed to be out loud._ Finn’s face is burning. _Too late now._ He takes a deep breath and waves a hand towards Poe’s crotch. “How to–whatever you did. For you. I’m pretty sure I’m going to fuck it up.”

Poe desperately tries to hold in his laughter, but it fizzes out of him anyway, unstoppable. “Finn. Oh, Finn. No, I’m not laughing at you. I think. Ok, maybe. But really. Oh, fuck, Finn, you _are_ going to kill me. Look. Buddy.” He inhales deeply, tries to sober up. “Buddy.” He presses Finn’s hands together in his. “It’s ok. You jerk yourself off, right? You told me that once before.”

“Um. Yeah. Right. Which is why I’m never drinking with you again.”

Poe’s lips are twitching with the effort to keep a straight face. “Right. Well, that’s fair enough. But is it true?”

Finn closes his eyes, dying of embarrassment.

“Finn. Hey, Finn. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone does. Men, women, humans, aliens, everyone. More or less. The only reason I’m bringing it up now is that it’s the same idea as giving someone else a hand job. The only real difference is that you have to watch their reaction, rather than just feel your own, to see whether you’re doing it right. Well, and the angle’s different, too, but you get used to that pretty quickly. But _seriously_ , Finn, you do not have to, by any means. I’m fine. I can take care of it, no problem. Or go without, whatever. It’ll stand down eventually. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Finn’s eyes hold him, serious. _Does he want to?_ The image pops into his mind unbidden: his hand, Poe’s cock, Poe panting under his touch, the slide of his fingers on– _Yup. Definitely. He wants to._ “I want to,” he says to Poe.

“You sure, buddy?”

“Yeah. I am. I really want to try it. But I’m going to fuck it up.”

Poe’s eyes crinkle with laughter. “I promise you, there’s no way to mess up. Short of bashing me in the crotch, I guess. Honestly, I think I’m going to come the moment you touch me.” He tilts his head, considers Finn’s lingering apprehension. “Want some guidance?” Finn nods fervently. Poe grins. “Remember that time I taught you how to fly an X-wing in the holosim?” ...y _our hands on the controls, my hands on yours, until I had to leave the holosim early, claiming you’d be totally fine, before you turned around and saw how tight my pants were getting._

So that’s how they end up here, with Finn kneeling between Poe’s thighs, one spit-slick hand wrapped tight around Poe, Poe’s hand wrapped tight around his. Up and down and back and forth and Poe’s directions are increasingly incoherent until he’s just babbling, gasping, pleading, _fuck yes harder oh Finn ah Force please oh ah oh faster kriff ah._ Finn’s heart is pounding with the feeling of power in his hands, an entirely different power than the heat of a blaster, a power to give and to watch and to care and to spark pleasure, to bring Poe to a shuddering mess, hanging on the edge of an orgasm, to stop short until he moans _ah ah Finn please AH,_ to resume and watch his head roll back, eyes black with lust, voice hoarse and absolutely wrecked, _Finn please ah AH hngggggh,_ to feel Poe’s cum on his hands, warm and wet and white, to taste it, bitter on his tongue, to hear Poe’s choked gasp at seeing Finn licking his cum off his fingers, to clean him with gentle strokes, to collapse onto the bed beside him, dizzy with success and lust and power and love.

Poe’s not a talker.

He’s a gasper. Eyes closed. Mouth open. Chest heaving. Arms akimbo. Finn props himself up on his elbow to watch him breathe. He could stay that way for hours, he’s pretty sure, watching a handful of stray curls flutter against his forehead with each breath, tracing the dear lines of Poe’s face with his eyes alone.

Poe’s eyes snap open and catch Finn’s. Hold him still. He’s still not sure he can string words together, but he gives it a go. “Finn,” he rasps.

If Finn thought the view was good before, he’s stunned now, pinned by Poe’s hooded gaze. Those deep dark eyes, hazy with post-orgasmic bliss. The wrecked voice. _He did that._ Finn’s the one who put that look into Poe’s eyes. Made him shout until his voice went hoarse. He must be grinning like a maniac now, because Poe’s grinning right back at him. “Finn,” he tries again. “You di’nt fuck up. Nope. You di’nt fuck up.”

“Oh.” Finn can’t wipe the ridiculous grin off his face. “Huh. Really. That’s good to know. I never would have guessed.”

Poe takes a lazy swing at his arm and misses. “Go t’ sleep, you— I’m goin’ to sleep. G’nigh’.” He flops over onto his side, buries his face under his arm.

Finn laughs at him, heart spilling over in a tumble of feelings. “Good night, Poe.” He stretches out along Poe’s back, rests an arm around his waist, nestles his face in the nest of dark curls at the back of Poe’s neck.

Poe pats the air behind him until he finds Finn’s shoulder and grips it for a moment. “Love you, Finn,” he whispers.

Finn’s arm tightens around Poe. “Love you too, Poe.”

The last thing he sees before falling into sleep is the contented crinkle in Poe’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first venture into smut! Whee! And yeah, I started to write sex and feelings came out. Oops. 
> 
> Comments and concrits are always appreciated! Let me know what you think. I would love to have a smut-specialist beta reader if anyone's interested. 
> 
> If you like, feel free to check out the rest of the [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/388042)...there's plenty more feelings where this came from. :D
> 
> Love you all! <3


	2. there's so much more we can

Morning dawns crisp and bright in the small bunk. Finn stretches, relaxes, takes a moment to admire the pilot in his bed. I don't think I could ever get tired of this view, he thinks. He snorts at the thought.

Poe startles awake with a small sigh. He starts to roll onto his back, feels Finn’s body behind him, and flips over to face Finn, eyes wide and disoriented. Finn smiles tentatively. “Good morning?”

Poe blinks. _Oh shit_ is written so clearly in his eyes that Finn flinches back, feeling slapped. “Poe?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Poe whispers. Finn’s hands go cold before he remembers. Poe lifts a cautious hand up to the swollen lump on Finn’s cheek. “How—” Poe closes his eyes. “ _Fuck_. Kriff, Finn, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s ok, Poe.”

Poe’s shaking his head, eyes still closed. “No, fuck, it’s not ok, I _hurt_ you.” His stomach clenches with horror. “I— _kriff_ , I don’t even remember what happened—”

“It’s ok, Poe. You know it’s not the first time.”

“And that’s supposed to make it more ok?” Poe lunges up out of bed, paces the room with wild steps. “I hurt you, Finn _._ I _hurt_ you. I didn’t even know I was doing it. Fuck _._ I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to—we shouldn’t sleep in the same bed, it’s not safe for you—”

“Poe. Will you please shut up?” Finn swings his legs off the bed, stands, catches Poe on his way back across the room, holds him still. “Poe. I’m not going to hold you responsible for what you do when you’re not conscious of your actions. I know you get nightmares. So do I. It’s not your fault, it’s not either of our faults.”

Poe snorts. “You don’t punch anything in your sleep, or waking up from it.”

Finn shrugs. “So?” Referencing the conditioning that trained him to sleep stiffly and silently will not help the situation. And it’s not like he wants to remember it any more than Poe wants to hear about it.

But Poe’s still shaking in his grasp. “I’m so sorry, Finn.”

“It’s _ok_ , Poe,” Finn repeats. “It’s not your fault.” He pulls Poe tight against his chest.

Poe remembers only vague details of a cold holding cell, a Stormtrooper with a long syringe of acid, a suddenly free hand that went swinging, swinging at a white plasteel helmet. A swift gasp from Finn as Poe’s hand wanders over a tender spot on his back makes Poe’s throat tighten with awful guilt, seeing Finn curled up on himself in the dark, trapped between Poe and the wall, protecting his body from Poe’s semi-conscious blows.

“I’m so sorry, Finn,” Poe whispers, hot with shame. “Oh, _Force_ , Finn. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I hurt you. I’ll sleep in a separate bed from now on. Or maybe we shouldn’t be together, I don’t want to hurt you again, I’m so sorry, Finn, I’m so sorry—”

“Are you done yet?” Finn’s nuzzling into his curls.

Poe grabs Finn’s chin and leans back so he can look him in the eye. “Why are you not upset?”

“It’s just a bruise, Poe! I’ve gotten them before. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Finn, I _hurt_ you. I would do anything for you, Finn. I want to keep you safe. I can’t believe I—”

“Poe. It’s _OK!_ When I said I love you, I meant it. I love all of you. Even the scarred parts. I don’t give a mynock shit about what happens in your brain when you’re asleep. I want to be here for you.”

Poe frames Finn’s face in his hands. “You’d rather get punched than be alone.”

Finn closes his eyes against Poe’s over-perceptive gaze and sighs. “And that too. I—look, we’re both fucked up, ok?” He rubs a hand over the back of his head. “Yeah. I would. But I also want to protect you from the nightmares. I want to care for you. Look, I—” His eyes are suddenly glinting. “I hate them, ok? The nightmares. I hate seeing you trapped, afraid, in so much pain. I wish I could make them stop. I _can’t_. So the least I can do is lie here beside you and try to help you wake from them, or at least make sure you don’t get hurt before you wake up.”

For a moment Poe just stares at Finn, not sure how to breathe. The force of Finn’s love wraps tightly around his body, a harness against the chaos of freefall. Poe grabs Finn’s shoulders tightly, pulls him closer, presses soft kisses to his cheeks, lips, nose. “ _Finn_. Oh, Finn. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Finn shrugs, relaxes against Poe’s chest. “Well, helping me escape was pretty nice of you.”

“Nope, we’re even on that count.”

“Shooting down the First Order on Takodana.”

“After you saved BB-8 and completed my mission.”

“Blowing up Starkiller.”

“After you punched a hole big enough for us to complete the job.”

Finn laughs, head thrown back, teeth gleaming in the silver morning light. “Ok, so we’re even. What did you do to deserve me?” His gaze hits Poe’s and holds. “Huh. I already got sappy once this morning. I don’t know if I’ve got clearance to do it again.”

“No.” Poe shakes his head vehemently. “No, no, no, no, no. Definitely not. You already stopped my heart once this morning. I don’t think I can take any more of that.”

“Hmm. Would it help if I punched you back?”

Poe’s eyes crinkle shut as he laughs. Finn loses his train of thought for a moment, watching him, caught by the beloved lines of his face. “Finn,” Poe gasps at last. “Oh, Finn. Maybe you should. The base is going to think I beat you. If you hit me too, we can just pretend we got into a fight last night.”

“With the sounds you were making?” Finn’s voice rumbles low against Poe’s ear as he nuzzles into Poe’s neck. “They know _exactly_ what happened last night.”

Poe grins, sidetracked by a few gloriously heated memories. “Trying to distract me, huh? Mmm.” He presses his hips into Finn’s. “I think I know what happened last night. Not quite sure, though. Maybe it would help if we try it again this morning. Jog my memory a bit.”

“Losing your memory already, huh? That’s sad, Poe. Maybe we should before you’re too old and stiff to—”

Poe grabs the back of his head and pulls Finn into a heated kiss, tongue and breath and lips  and teeth and _tongue_. Finn’s eyes are shut tight as he presses closer, closer, until the lines between their bodies start to blur.

“ _Commander Dameron, your recruits are waiting!”_ Jessika’s pissed-off voice startles them apart. Poe’s comm is flashing red. _“Quit fucking around and get your horny ass out here already!”_

Poe puts a hand on his pounding heart, panting. “Fuck you, Pava. I’m coming.”

_“Oh, I bet you are!”_

“Fuck you.” Poe scrubs a hand through his hair, spins around the room, grabs the first pair of pants he sees. “ _Kriff_. I can’t believe it got so late. I’m sorry, Finn, I have to take them out for training now. We’ll continue this later?” His eyes snag again on the contusion on Finn’s cheek and tighten with guilt. “You’re sure you’re ok sleeping in the same bed? This will happen again, and—”

“ _Yes_ , Poe. It’s _ok_.”

Poe’s lips tighten. “Ok. But you’re sleeping on the outside from now on, ok?” His eyes are steely gray. “So you can at least get away. I don’t want you to be trapped against the wall again.”

“Ok, Poe. I will.” Finn’s hands slide up to cup the back of Poe’s neck, pulling his head in for a deep kiss. “And you’ll stop apologizing for it, ok?” he murmurs as he finally breaks away for air. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

Poe laughs, surrendering at last. “ _That_ I can certainly do.” Poe’s words are muffled by the press of his lips against Finn’s chest as they navigate downwards towards the dark crest of a nipple. “Just— hit me back next time, ok? Pacifist,” he mutters.

_“Dameron!”_

“Fuck.” Poe pulls on clothes, boots, commlink. Finn grabs him before he can run out the door, one hand on his waist to pull him in for a deep kiss while the other hand rearranges Poe’s hair.

“Finn,” Poe gasps as they separate at last. “You’re incredible. Recruits. See you later? I have to leave now. I love you. Fucking Pava. Ah. Finn. I’m going to have a boner all day, every time I think about you. Which, ok, has been my life for the past few days. Weeks. Worse things have happened. Better ones, too. You’ll have to help me later. You said you know how this works, sex? Read up. Or I’ll teach you. There’s so much more we can—”

“Poe!” Finn’s undone with hysterical laughter. “Your recruits! Go! Get out of here!”

Poe opens the door to a triumphal _toot_ from Jess’ kloo horn. “Pava!” he roars. “I will get you!” Jess sprints down the hall, cackling with glee, Poe hot on her tail. Finn, wrapped loosely in a still-warm bedsheet, quickly closes the door before any of the other pilots can stick their gossipy noses into the room. He leans back against the door, puts a hand to his throbbing lips, closes his eyes, and laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! Thanks for all of your incredible comments on this series so far. If you like, feel free to check out the rest of the [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/388042)...there's plenty more feelings where this came from! <3
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to the awe-inspiring [stitchyarts](http://stitchyarts.tumblr.com/post/138704369752/idk-what-to-tell-you-other-than-there-aint-enough).


	3. i will fly you anywhere

They’re lying in Poe’s bed, side by side, flushed with heat. Finn’s hand reaches lazily over to wander through Poe’s lush curls. Poe nuzzles into Finn’s shoulder. “How many people have you had sex with?” Finn asks.

Poe startles away from him, a sudden flare of surprised hurt in his dark eyes. “What?”

“I—I’m sorry, is that not—is it not ok to ask that? I just thought–I mean, it doesn’t seem to be a secret that you’ve slept with a lot of people, your squadron tells all kinds of stories, and the way you talk, I mean, saying that you escape the grief through fucking, listing all the different ways people respond after sex, I just assumed—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was kind of curious, but— is it not ok to ask that?”

The line between Poe’s brows deepens in thought. “No, no, buddy, it’s fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. I’m sorry, forget it, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” Poe brushes a hand down Finn’s cheek. “I’m glad you asked, if you were wondering about it. I’d like you to be honest with me. It’s not good to go around asking anybody that, just so you know. Most people consider it rude. But I don’t mind telling you. It’s just—” An anxious note creeps into Poe’s voice. “I don’t really have a number to tell you.”

Finn frowns. “Why not?”

The lines around Poe’s eyes pull tight with trepidation. He keeps a careful watch on Finn’s face as he reluctantly answers, “Because I stopped keeping track a long time ago. I’ve got all the shots, it’s fine, don’t worry! I’ve slept with—” The need for openness with his lover presses in on him; he forces himself to continue. “A few hundred, I guess. I don’t really know. ”

Finn’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, but he’s not upset or looking at him like— “So? That’s, uh, that’s a lot more than I had figured, but—why did you think I would get upset about that?”

Poe tilts his head on the pillow, nonplussed. “Well. Um. I tend to get a lot of weird reactions.”

“Like what?”

Poe runs a hand through his hair, anxious again. “Uh—well, some people get upset, they think because it’s been so many that it doesn’t mean anything to me—and it doesn’t, really, I make sure that they know that beforehand, that they’re ok with it—and you are in an ENTIRELY different category,” he enunciates, poking Finn in the chest. “You know that, right? And I don’t say that to everyone, ok? I—fuck, this is why I hate this question!” he pleads, voice shaking. “I’ve never said that to anyone before, I swear, you have to believe me—”

“I believe you.” Finn’s voice is soft. He covers Poe’s trembling hands in his own. “I believe you, Poe,” Finn repeats.

Poe nods, swallows roughly. “Good.” His voice is hoarse. “Good. Ok. I’m glad,” he whispers, pressing his lips to Finn’s chest. “I’m glad.” He rests his forehead against Finn’s clavicle for a moment, drags in a long breath. Finally he continues. “Right. Ok. And, uh—the other reaction I get tends to be, well—there aren’t a lot of nice words for people who sleep with a lot of other people.”

“Oh, yeah, I was going to ask you—what does ‘ho’ mean?”

Poe groans and closes his eyes. “Ah, kriff. Where’d you hear that?”

“Some of the pilots. They, uh—”

“‘Ho Dameron,’ right?”

Finn nods guiltily.

Poe’s lips pull up into a rueful smile. “I almost don’t mind that one. It’s just too perfect an opportunity. I’d probably be saying it if it were the other way around. ‘Ho’ is short for whore, a person who has sex with a lot of other people for payment, or just because sex is cheap and meaningless to them. It’s usually an insult.” Finn watches as the furrow in Poe’s brow deepens. “It is partly true of me,” Poe continues reluctantly. “I have had sex with a lot of people. But it’s never been meaningless. Ever. It just doesn’t mean a relationship. People don’t always understand the difference, so: ‘ho.’  I’d rather people kept their noses in their own lives, but—I don’t know—that’s just how some people are. I chose a long time ago to not let it bother me.”

“But it does,” Finn states.

Poe’s eyes run recon over his face, thoughtful. “Not the words alone. The…assumptions that people make. That since I’ve slept with a lot of people, I want to sleep with everyone. That sex doesn’t mean anything to me. That I’m ok with having sex in whatever way they want, whatever time and place. That they don’t have to ask, that I’m never going to say no.”

Finn nods slowly. “People are stupid.”

Poe didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he lets it out in a rush of laughter. “Yeah. Yeah, buddy, they are. Not everybody, not by any means. But some people. Yeah.”

“Why did you—no. Sorry. You don’t want to talk about it.” Finn shakes his head to himself.

“Spit it out, buddy.” Poe lifts his chin with a finger. “I told you. If you’re wondering it, I want to hear it. It’s never going to be as bad as whatever I’m imagining.”

Finn presses his lips together, then concedes. “Why did you do it, then? Sleep with so many people. If some people think it’s a bad thing.”

Poe tilts his head, considers him. “Well…” He sighs. “By the time I left Yavin to be a pilot for the Republic, I had slept with two people—I think that’s around normal, for that age. But, like I said,  I’d lost everyone. I didn’t want to get attached again, but I didn’t want to be totally alone, either. I started sleeping with people so I could feel connected to them, just for one night, but not have to mourn them if the next battle went to shit. And to just have fun, to lose myself in someone’s else’s body.”

Poe sighs, unsure how to articulate feelings he’s never been able to entrust to anyone else. “But I found that I _loved_ it. Bringing someone to orgasm, watching them come— it’s beautiful, like the stars. Giving someone pleasure, getting it in return. Focusing in on that very moment. It’s the same feeling I get from flying—but in space I still have to _think_. Alone with someone else, someone who knows the game—I can just be. Move. Feel. Do. It’s intoxicating.”

Finn’s silence is stretching Poe’s nerves far past the point of comfort. He strokes a finger along Finn’s side, trying to distract himself. It doesn’t work. “Does it bother you?” Poe asks quietly.

“What? No. Um. Yeah. Uh—” Finn tries to gather his thoughts. Poe’s looking at him with fearful eyes. “No. What I mean is—”

“Finn, it’s ok. Just say it.”

“I—just—it’s ok if—I mean–I know I don’t have a lot of experience. Well, _any_ experience. So if you want to—if you need to—if I’m not enough, I mean—”

Poe’s hand is gripping his side tight enough to leave a bruise. “No, no, _fuck_ , no. Finn! _Fuck._ ” Poe doesn’t know how to make this right. “Finn.” His voice is hoarse. “It’s different between us. It’s not just physical. It’s more, it’s— I–since Takodana, since I found out you survived the crash, you’ve been the only one I can think about. The only one I want to be with. _Ever_. I— _fuck_.” Poe grits his teeth and forces himself to continue, painfully honest. “I can’t—I mean—I’ve never felt this way before. So I can’t promise that it’ll last forever. I don’t know for sure. But—I saw the way my parents looked at each other. The way the General looked at Han. They never wanted anyone else. I—” Poe’s eyes focus on Finn’s, dark and deep and direct. “I feel the same. When I look at you.”

“Oh,” Finn responds, dazed. “Huh. Oh.”

It’s a few moments before Finn can breathe properly again. When he does, he leans into Poe’s forehead until his eyes merge into one. “Poe,” he starts, low and serious. “I’m never going to be able to give speeches like you can.” His voice starts sputtering upwards with suppressed laughter. “So you’ll just have to put up with me listening to yours and then nodding like an idiot, ok?”

Poe laughs with relief, holding Finn close against him. “Any time, Finn. Any time. Although you’re better at speeches than you think, believe me. But do you—are you ok? Is it ok with you, that I—”

“Yes, Poe, _yes_. Kriff, Dameron, how in the Force are you so insecure?”

“You never actually said so!”

“Oh.” Finn thinks back for a moment. “Right. I didn’t. Sorry about that.” He thinks for another moment. “Actually, I’m glad that you have plenty of experience,” Finn presses his lips together, trying to stay serious. “Because I don’t have a clue what I'm doing,” he presses on, starting to sputter with laughter, “and I want to try everything.” Finn’s face suddenly ignites with complete and total glee. “So I think I need a pilot.”

“Buddy,” Poe swears, tackling him into a heartfelt kiss, “I will fly you _anywhere_ you want to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrits make my day! I always love to hear what you think.
> 
> Also, please forgive me for being slow on the update lately: I've been working day and night for the past week on another fic to go at the end of this whole series. (And when I say day and night, I mean it. Who needs sleep?) I'm **REALLY** excited to share it with you all. It started out as a short action sequence and ended up 40 pages and counting. Fasten your seatbelts, guys: it will be epic. I may have broken Poe, but I will put him back together again. I promise. I'll try to post it in the next week...depending on how crazy life gets. (Read the rest of the [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/388042) while you wait?)
> 
> Love you all! <3


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